


Read Between the Blurry Lines

by QuickedWeen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Chance Meetings, Dating, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9275597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/pseuds/QuickedWeen
Summary: Harry gave a shocked laugh, “Smooth, very smooth.” Louis shrugged unapologetically.“What can I say, you’re cute, and I’ve only got one stop left before you get off. I don’t exactly have time to beat around the bush.” Harry giggled again, and quickly handed his phone to Louis to get his number.Louis dialed his own number and handed the phone back to him as the train was pulling into Harry’s stop.Just before the doors opened, Harry turned around and smiled. “See you on Thursday, Louis.”Harry and Louis meet at an event and hit it off, but Louis is hiding something important about his life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a prompt challenge that a group of us are participating in for the prompt "Foundation". To read the other amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, you can [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/foundation) and to see all fics written as part of the challenge, you can [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/2017_hl_prompt_challenge).
> 
> I'm so excited to see what everyone else came up with!
> 
> The title comes from the song "Who Should Follow Who" by Run Boy Run - listen if you like Alison Krauss, Bluegrass, Americana, Female vocals :)

The rhythmic whir of the printer was all Harry could hear in the spacious open plan of the Boston Symphony Orchestra offices. Located three stories above the hustle and bustle of Mass Ave, the cubicles were particularly empty this afternoon. Harry had just begun his job with the BSO three months prior, coming on board as their new “Development Assistant.” In the non-profit world, having the word “Assistant” in your title meant grunt work, and a lot of it.

Harry was three years out of college, and finally getting a chance to work in his field, after putting in his time as a waiter at a touristy bar on Boylston Street. He didn’t mind the grunt work at this job though, because it all felt much more rewarding. Staring at endless spreadsheets, and entering the data for countless donations while occasionally rubbing elbows with Boston’s crème de la crème of donors was much better than cleaning up after another table of drunk frat boys after a Patriots game.

His particular task this afternoon was to print invitations for a small, targeted, fundraising party at a Board member’s Beacon Hill mansion. There were some events that it was appropriate for him to attend and some that weren’t, and the line was murky at best, but he understood. This party would be a seated, catered dinner in a private home, so having him there would mean an extra plate, and an added cost. Not worth it. But, if they did the same event at a rented out restaurant downtown with the same exact pool of donors, he would be invited. Murky, but he knew his place. That was something about the field of fundraising that was instinctual; learning when to blend in to the woodwork, and learning when to lay on the charm. It all depended on reading the personality of the donor, and understanding what made them tic. His boss, Kathy, had recently complimented him on his natural ability to do just that. He knew reading people and situations was one of his gifts, it was nice to accomplish more with it than just earning a few extra tips.

Printing invitations was actually a nice break from what he had been doing despite the alarming number of times he had to un-jam the printer. Every year the BSO applied for a grant from the Deakin Family Foundation, and every year they received anywhere from fifty to a hundred thousand dollars. Because the DFF had so much money, and so many organizations vying for its five annual grants, they required extensive statistical reports ranging from past budgets to year to year attendance numbers. The Symphony and the ballet were the two more or less guaranteed grants every year usually in the seventy five thousand dollar range, and the other three were all up for grabs.

Harry’s first day just happened to fall right at the height of what his supervisor liked to call “Diff” season, so he was given a cursory training on his main responsibilities with the promise of more later, and then he was thrown into the dizzying world of ticket sale data and seat counts. They had finished up the last of the application on Wednesday, and the rest of the week had been very relaxed. Aside from his fights with the printer.

 

_**Three Months Later** _

“NIALL!” Harry yelled from his bedroom. Their Central Square apartment was long and narrow. Niall had the front bedroom facing the street, Niall’s friend from college, Perrie, had the first bedroom at the back of the house off the kitchen, and Harry had the bedroom closest to the back porch. It was a great set up, but hell when Harry needed Niall to talk him down off the ledge of a crisis.

“Hurry! I need your help!” Harry pleaded again.

“Come out here, there’s better lighting,” Niall responded, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation. Harry huffed out a breath and reevaluated the clothing strewn across his bed. He quickly pulled on a cream silk shirt over his nicest, blackest, cleanest, most put-together pair of black skinny jeans, and ran towards the kitchen.

Niall was bent over an overflowing burrito from Chipotle making a mess at the table while Harry’s cat, Mia, sat underneath him watching, waiting for a morsel to fall, clearly unmoved by her owner’s distress. Niall looked up long enough to survey Harry’s outfit, “Why are you all buttoned up?” he asked, grimacing.

“Because, Niall, this is a Big Deal Party, and I can’t just go around flashing all my tattoos to all of these fancy rich people. Not to mention all of the professionals in the field that I would like to work in for many years. In the city I would like to do that in. But Kathy did say I should be myself. Maybe I should undo a few buttons. Normally I would do three but that looks kind of slutty. Two?”

“Woah, Harry. Calm down. You’re working yourself up over nothing.” Niall said, finally putting the burrito down now that he had realized just how panicky Harry was. “You look great with two unbuttoned. When you move you can see the birds, but only if you’re really really paying attention, and you can’t see the butterfly at all.”

Harry agreed and calmed down enough to put a little smoothing product in his curls. He needed to get his hair cut soon, it was falling down past his ears and would brush his shoulders in no time. A few months prior Perrie, who worked at the major thrift store in the area, had seen a pair of black velvet Saint Laurent Chelsea boots as they came in and grabbed them for Harry before they hit the floor. They were a half size too big, so he had to wear thicker socks, but he loved them more than life itself. Even at the thrift store they were more expensive than he expected, but they were nowhere near the retail price. He ate a lot of ramen noodles over the summer.

He tried to keep his breathing even as he rode the red line across the river into the heart of downtown Boston. A month ago, the Symphony had learned that they would receive their usual grant of $75,000 from the Deakin Family Foundation. Normally, a person as low down on the totem pole as Harry would never be invited to the combined cocktail reception and press conference for the recipients, but a series of unfortunate events led to a few of his colleagues dropping out at the last minute. He never thought the day would come that he would be overjoyed at a toddler getting sick, but here he was, off to the glitziest party he had ever attended, while Carol the Planned Giving Associate stayed at home. Sorry, Carol.

When he entered the bar of the Liberty Hotel, the lights were dim, the drinks were flowing, and everyone seemed to be fighting for a space at the bar. Because this was technically a work event, he had asked his boss about the appropriateness of drinking, and she said one drink was completely acceptable.

After he removed his coat and various winter accessories, he checked them at the window and continued into the main section of the room. Not seeing anyone he knew, and not knowing what to do, Harry joined the crush at the bar.

He found a narrow space, and managed to just squeeze himself in between what seemed to be a few staff members from other recipient organizations. They were wearing name-tags, which probably meant that Harry had one laying around somewhere. Right on cue, he made eye contact with Kathy across the room. She motioned over to him, so he gave up his hard earned free space, and wove his way through the bodies trying to get across the room.

She looked incredibly glamorous, yet understated, with a black dress and some simple jewelry. He immediately began to second guess having his top two buttons undone.

“Harry, there you are! I have your name tag here.” She handed him a plastic holder with a piece of paper inside and he sent up a quick prayer of thanks that it had a magnet closure instead of a sticky back, or pin, that would ruin his top. He couldn’t afford another shirt like this. As it was he had a strict rotation of his more expensive looking garments already set aside for donor events. “You look very nice tonight. I’m going to have to beat the cougars off you with a stick, letting your chest hang out like that.”

Harry immediately began panicking again, “Is it too much? I’m sorry, I can do them up.”

Kathy just brushed him off, “No, don’t be silly. You look great, and you have such a talent for flirting with them. They love you.” She was right, Harry thought as he scanned the room more carefully than he had before. At twenty-five, he was one of the youngest attendees by far. Most of the other organizations brought their more senior staff members, and donors were usually of the over-fifty set.

There was one standout group that had commandeered a large booth in the corner, but they seemed even younger than him, which confused him. Who brought their children to a cocktail reception? Out of the corner of his eye he saw a beautiful smartly dressed woman approach Kathy from behind, reaching out to tap her on the shoulder.

Kathy turned abruptly away from Harry, “Oh, Jay! Dan! How lovely it is to see you, especially under these circumstances. Thank you so much for being so generous with the grant this year.”

“Oh don’t be silly, Kathy. You know how much we love the Symphony, we’re just glad we are in a position to help.” Her voice was lovely and soft, and she and her husband seemed very welcoming, but he didn’t want to rudely insert himself into the situation, so he mostly tuned out the conversation, and continued to watch the people around the room.

He checked out the bar again. There seemed to be a little more empty space now that the initial rush at the beginning of the party had passed. At the far end of the bar, tucked in the corner, he saw a man that made him do a double take. His hair fell softly across his forehead, and when he looked up his piercing blue gaze snagged on Harry, as if he could sense that Harry was watching him. He was a surprising mix of angles and curves, with sharp cheekbones, and a jawline littered with handsome stubble, but a soft curve to his spine. That was as much as Harry could see of his profile with people from the crowd crossing his vision every few minutes.

When he knew he had Harry’s attention, his smile quirked up a bit at the corner, and he raised his eyebrows in clear invitation. Harry could feel his smile grow in return, and turned his body toward Kathy to make his excuses and make his way over to the bar. He was definitely being professional. Networking. Or, for all she knew, he could have spotted another one of their staff members who had, just a few moments before, made her way in that general direction. Yeah, he was totally going to go find her. In case she got lost. That was it.

Eventually he managed to draw his eyes away from the man at the bar to tune back in to Kathy’s conversation, intending to find a good opening to interrupt gracefully.

“And who’s this then, Kathy?” The woman Kathy had identified as Jay asked, motioning towards Harry.

“Oh yes, apologies! Jay, this is Harry our newest Development Assistant.”

“How wonderful to meet you darling, I’m Jay Deakin, and this is my husband Dan. When did you start at the Symphony?” Upon closer inspection, Harry noticed that she had kind eyes, and seemed sincere in her question. When it came to donors, and other people with money, they either cared and were at least curious about staff members, or they weren’t.

“About six months ago, I’m really enjoying it so far,” he responded with genuine enthusiasm. It was true, he loved his job. He gave a passing thought to the missed opportunity with the man at the bar, hoping he could find him again later, and then decided to fully engage in the conversation.

After talking with Jay and Dan, he and Kathy were bounced around from other people associated with the Deakin Foundation, to other donors of the Symphony, and to members of the press. Hors d'oeuvres were passed, and Harry was finally given a glass of red wine by a server, so he never managed to make it back over to the bar.

While he was disappointed he hadn’t met the man, his evening could overall be considered a success. He made connections, rubbed elbows, all that jazz. Kathy had seemed impressed with him when he was a part of the conversation, so he was satisfied.

He began to button his coat up tighter and adjusted his scarf as he rode the elevator up to the platform at Charles/MGH. He was lucky, just a few stops and he would be home-not all events he had to attend were this convenient. Once he made it up, he saw that the next train wasn’t for another ten minutes. He sighed, watching his breath crystallize in the air, and pulled out his phone to shoot a quick text to Gemma.

 _Had a party at the Liberty. Wine was good, but normal drink prices very $$$_.

She was currently living in New York with her boyfriend but came home frequently, and loved to try new places. Harry knew the Liberty was on her list, but she probably wouldn’t want to spare the expense when there were better bars that didn’t have the price markup that came with being attached to a hotel.

When he didn’t receive a response immediately he switched hands to alternate for warmth, and pulled up Instagram to scroll through and kill some time. He looked down the platform to see the time had changed to eight minutes, and took a look at the other people on the platform. There was a body weaving it’s way through the waiting commuters towards Harry. He caught a flash of soft brown hair, and a plaid scarf - the man from the bar! This night definitely just got more interesting.

Harry didn’t consider himself to be shy, per se, he just wasn’t always confident in being the one to approach someone and initiate conversation. In this case, he knew the interest was there, and now he had one more glass of wine in him than earlier in the evening. As Harry began to move towards him, the man looked up and made eye contact with Harry. There were those blue eyes again, they made Harry a little weak in the knees, if he was being honest with himself.

“You abandoned me before, do you know that?” the man said on a smirk. “I’m Louis.” If Harry hadn’t already locked his weak knees, he surely would have fainted dead away. His - Louis’ - voice was beautiful. Soft and raspy, it reminded Harry of being cuddled up on the sofa with hot chocolate and a good book. Comfort.

“Harry,” he said reaching his hand out to take Louis proffered one, “and sorry about that. I was with my boss, and I couldn’t really get away. Wanted to though.” He knew he could sound desperate putting all his cards on the table like that, but Louis had proved himself to be a straightforward guy, and Harry didn’t like playing coy.

“That’s alright. I saw Jay Deakin come up, and figured as much.” Louis glanced away briefly, an odd look on his face.

“Yeah, are you from one of the other organizations?” Harry figured he must be, he looked to be Harry’s own age, well below the donor demographic.

“Something like that, yeah,” the look was back, but in a flash it had cleared off his face and he kept going, “where are you headed?” Louis asked, nodding towards the platform.

“Central Square. That’s home for me.”

“Very nice. My favorite bar is just above the stop there. Brick & Mortar, it’s a speakeasy style place. Drinks and appetizers.” Harry had to chuckle at that. This gorgeous man, that Harry was rapidly developing a crush on, just had to casually mention Harry’s favorite bar. What was next? Was he going to magically drop down on one knee while talking about his love of big families, and the private plane he was going to whisk Harry away on? Harry had to scoff out loud at his own imagination.

“What you don’t like that place?” Louis asked, concerned.

“No, no. It’s my favorite place to go, I was honestly just wondering what your major flaw was going to turn out to be.” Louis’ answering grin flooded the entire platform with light, dazzling Harry for a moment. Never mind, that was the train’s actual headlights coming towards them.

They approached the yellow line in tandem waiting for the automatic doors to let them into the heated car. Louis moved to the divot next to the opposite doors and stayed standing, looking back to make sure Harry stayed with him. After the warning tone for the doors chimed through the air, the quiet settled on them once again. Neither Harry or Louis said anything until they pulled into the next stop, just stealing little glances at each other. Harry had never studied the incredibly simple red line map so very intently before.

“Sooo,” Louis pointedly drew out the vowel, “if you like Brick & Mortar so much, would you be interested in meeting me there? Around six o’clock, next Thursday night?”

Harry gave a shocked laugh, “Smooth, very smooth.” Louis shrugged unapologetically.

“What can I say, you’re cute, and I’ve only got one stop left before you get off. I don’t exactly have time to beat around the bush.” Harry giggled again, and quickly handed his phone to Louis to get his number.

Louis dialed his own number and handed the phone back to him as the train was pulling into Harry’s stop.

Just before the doors opened, Harry turned around and smiled. “See you on Thursday, Louis.”

 

_**Three Months Later** _

Harry turned up the music in his headphones as he let his body sway with the movement of the bus beneath him as it made it’s way down Mass Ave towards the BSO. He was on his way to meet Louis for a special concert; a visiting orchestra was performing some pieces by Tchaikovsky in Symphony Hall. Because he was a staff member he had managed to scrounge up some $25 tickets that were normally in the $100 - $150 price range.

They had been seeing each other for a little while, but had only been on five dates or so because Louis traveled a lot for work. On their first date, Louis let slip that he was an accountant at the Deakin Foundation, which is why he had been at the reception that night. He said the staff was small, and they were technically the ones throwing the party, so all of them got to attend.

Their dates had been nothing short of magical. On their first one to Brick & Mortar they had stayed there for hours tucked away at the very end of the bar, the conversation flowing easily. That conversation had never really stopped. When Louis was away, he did his best to text Harry as much as he could. He had picked up all the tabs, despite Harry’s protest, and had been the perfect respectful gentleman.

That was going to change if it was the absolute last thing that Harry did. He was sick of it, he wanted Louis, and he wanted him now, yesterday, two weeks ago.

Louis lived in Harvard Square one neighborhood over, so they tended to stay in the area when they went out. At the end of every date Louis had insisted on either walking Harry to his door, or calling him an Uber to go home. Their goodnight kiss from the first date, had now turned into full on goodnight make-out sessions. At the end of the last date Louis had pressed Harry up against the wrought iron railing of his porch stairs, and had left him so breathless and discombobulated that he had nearly tripped up those stairs when they finally let each other go.

Thankfully Niall and Perrie were both out when he got upstairs, so he was able to hop straight into a very cold, lonely, and unsatisfying shower.

He felt his cheeks heat up as he glanced around to the other passengers on the bus as if he was somehow broadcasting his thoughts about all of the things he wanted to do to Louis, or have Louis do to him, later that night.

He disembarked at his stop and crossed the street to where Louis was waiting for him on the side steps of the building.

He immediately leaned in to greet Louis with a kiss that had a little too much tongue given they were only five doors down from the entrance to the offices where he worked. It was after hours, if his boss came by she would get over it.

“Well, hello to you to!” Louis said on a laugh. “That was some greeting. Can you cross the street and come back so we can do it again?” He ruined the mildly romantic sentiment by wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“I just missed you, is all,” Harry confessed.

Louis smile softened, “I know, I missed you too. But, I’ll be here all this week, then it’s just one more trip before the traveling stops for awhile. I promise.”

Harry nodded and smiled cheekily, “Good to know.” Louis held out his elbow so Harry could loop his arm through it, and led them around to the front entrance of the Hall. Something about Louis’ gentlemanly behavior just made Harry feel even more naughty.

They showed an usher their tickets, and made their way to the front lobby.

Harry was excited and began to chatter away as he felt himself get swept up in it, “I know these aren’t the greatest seats in the world, but it doesn’t matter, because the acoustics here are so amazing, and all we really need to be able to do is hear, right? That’s the whole point? Plus they were such a steal with my staff discount.”

When Louis squeezed his elbow tighter, Harry was pulled a little closer to his body and Harry could feel his breath ghost across the shell of his ear making him shiver, “Harry, darling, I’m sure they’re perfectly fine seats, and you’re right, we’re here for the music.” He gave him a reassuring smile as they made their way with the crowd towards the entrance of the main Hall.

The historic ceilings of Symphony Hall were a little more than sixty feet high, and by the end of the night, Harry felt like he was floating up near the top. The concert was as breathtaking as he thought it would be, and Louis had spent the whole night with a possessive hand resting on his thigh.

After the program had finished, they had some time while the throng of audience members moved slowly towards the exit, and Harry was basking in the adrenaline high of the final number.

“Hey, Harry. Do you want to maybe find somewhere around here to grab a drink? I want to talk to you about something.” With anyone else, on any other night, Harry’s anxiety would have spiked through the roof, and he would have very gently demanded to know what was wrong right then and there. But his whole evening had been pure bliss, and he was in too good a mood.

“Well, Niall and Perrie are both working late shifts tonight, do you want to maybe come to my apartment for a night cap?” He had never been so bold, or blatant, when trying to get someone to sleep with him before. Louis hesitated for a moment, then smiled and nodded as their aisle began to clear of congestion.

When they finally made it out into the hallway Harry gave Louis a quick peck on the cheek and told him he was going to run to the restroom. Louis nodded and indicated he was going to wait out in the hall for him.

Harry pushed through the door, took care of business, and then set to doing a little primping. He combed through his hair, popped a mint, double checked the buttons on his shirt, and sent a quick text to the roommate group chat letting Niall and Perrie know that Louis might be staying over. The responses he got from his two ridiculous, if not very lovable, best friends were dirty, and dirtier.

Upon exiting the bathroom, he looked around for Louis and caught a glimpse of his back about thirty feet farther down the hallway that he had been standing before, talking to a familiar face.

Louis was talking to Jay Deakin from the Deakin Family Foundation, which made sense given the fact that he worked there. It seemed odd that Louis was just a staff accountant, but he looked to be completely at ease conversing with the Chairman of the Board. That was the kind of awkward boss run in that one either completely avoided, or gave a polite smile and nod. Possibly accompanied by a “Hi, how are you,” but usually not. This didn’t appear to be that kind of conversation.

Harry had run into her once more since the night of the party, and the experience had been even more pleasant than their first conversation. For having so much money, and being in charge of so much more, she was incredibly warm and welcoming.

It wasn’t until Jay made eye contact with him and waved him over that Louis turned around, and Harry was hit with the full force of realization that made him stop dead in his tracks.

If he was being honest with himself, he should have seen it before. The crinkles next to their slightly down-turned eyes when they smiled, their gently rounded eyebrows, the same shade of what should have been rather plain brown hair but on them had a certain depth of color, and of course Louis’ position at the foundation. What kind of accountant traveled all the time? One who was part of the notoriously close family, and was clearly part of the grant decision making process. God, how could Harry have been this blind. He felt his body go hot with embarrassment as he stood in the middle of the hallway replaying every other conversation they had ever had.

Louis’ semi self-deprecating jokes about the lack of diversity in small New England private schools, his time at Harvard, mentioning his parents living nearby. Harry thought he meant a nice house out in the suburbs, not a mansion on Beacon Hill. He had never pressed, not wanting to get too close to serious family conversations before they had the all important Relationship Talk. Harry had stupidly been hoping to have it the next morning, after Louis stayed the night, over a breakfast of his famous fried eggs sandwiches.

He had planned to have Louis over to his very small apartment in Cambridge that he shared with his roommates who waited tables and worked in retail, where the porch door stuck, and you could hear the neighbors two streets over. He felt ridiculous. Had Louis been laughing at him the whole time? Harry who had an entry level job, and would probably never make very much money at all wanting to work in the arts. Harry who was so excited about getting his staff tickets and bringing his potential boyfriend, that he never gave said potential boyfriend the chance to mention his family's subscription in the priciest section of the orchestra.

“Harry!” Jays shout startled him out of the abyss of his thoughts, and she waved him over again a little more emphatically. He avoided making eye contact with Louis as he made his way towards them.

“Jay, hello, how are you?” He pasted on his smile easily, pointedly ignoring Louis gaze that he could feel on his skin like a laser beam.

“I’m fine, honey, but how are you? You looked like you saw a ghost a minute ago.” She rested her hand on his elbow, “Are you alright?”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really, but I should be going. Don’t want to miss the last bus.”

“Of course dear, but first, I hear you’ve met my son? Louis?” Harry turned to Louis, ice running through his veins.

“Yes, nice to see you again, but I really should get going.” He turned away abruptly, hoping Jay would forgive him for the rudeness.

He made it halfway through the front lobby before he heard Louis calling after him, “Harry, wait!”

The tears started to form as he made it out onto the front steps, frantically digging through the pockets of his jacket for his CharlieCard.

“Harry! What’s wrong? Where are you going?”

“What’s wrong?” Harry rounded on Louis incredulous, “What’s wrong is that you never told me you were part of one of the richest families in Boston!” Louis blinked at him in shock, clearly not expecting his anger.

“I thought you knew!” It was a weak excuse. Harry knew it, Louis knew it, and Harry could tell he didn't really mean it.

“Knew? When did I ever indicate that I knew? I mean I knew you made more money than me, but I thought you were just being generous! And you know, like, gentlemanly.” Louis still looked shocked, but his look softened a bit.

“Well, I was? I like you a lot and I wanted to pay. But that’s not the point. Seriously, Harry, I should have told you, but…”

“But…? But what?” Harry pressed. “You let me buy you these cheap tickets in the corner because I wanted to woo you so you would come home and finally put out,”

“Wait, what?”

Harry ignored his embarrassment at letting that slip and barreled on, “when now I know for a fact that you were humoring me because you have your own subscription up in the middle of the front section! It's my job to know about our high profile donors’ tickets.”

“Okay technically those are my parents’ seats, but that's neither here nor there.” Louis took a deep breath, “God, this sounds arrogant, and I can’t believe it’s coming out of my own mouth, but you were just so excited about these tickets, and I honestly didn't think they would be here tonight.”

“Do you realize you sound like a patronizing asshole right now?”

Louis gave a humorless laugh at that, “Believe me I am painfully aware. The family thing, Harry, I promise it's not a you thing, it's a them thing.” He seemed to realize and regret what he said as soon as he finished speaking, but Harry was too keyed up now to let it go.

“Did you seriously just ‘It's not you, it's me,’ me? Is that what this is?” Louis took a frantic step towards Harry, as if to stop him from leaving. Harry didn't want to leave, but he still recoiled slightly away from his outstretched hand.

“No, that is the absolute last thing I want, I swear to you. I really like you Harry, and I have from the beginning, but you have no idea how hard it is to find someone who is just looking for, well, me, and not for the money or the connections.” With one final gesture of his hands, his arms dropped to his sides and he gave a pitiful shrug. Harry had never seen him look so small and vulnerable, but he was angry, and he had every right to be. This whole time, he thought he was beginning what felt like one of the most open and trusting “adult” relationships he had ever been in, and here he was. On the steps of the Symphony being told he was a gold digger. Not in so many words and Louis hadn't actually accused him of anything, but the implication was there.

“So you’re saying you didn’t really trust me enough to tell me?” He tried to keep his voice from breaking over the end of the sentence, but he wasn’t entirely certain he did.

“No, I’m saying I do trust you! I do. That’s why I wanted to talk tonight. I knew where I hoped tonight was headed, and I really wanted to make sure you knew before anything… else… happened.” Harry gave a watery scoff at that, and Louis took that as an invitation to try coming closer again. Harry didn’t move away entirely, but he didn’t fall easily into the same embrace he had enjoyed all evening. “Look, Harry, I'll say it again: I really, really, like you. It terrifies me how much I like you, and I am so sorry you found out about my family this way.”

“Well, I did.” He did his best to maintain his composure. “I like you to, Lou,” Louis glance looked hopeful, “but, I’m not sure what to think about all of this, and I think I just need a couple days.”

Louis stepped back a bit and cleared his throat, “I, um, I understand. Like I said, I’ll be around. I have to go to Chicago next week, but I’ll be around before that.”

Harry nodded and turned towards the bus stop, before he felt Louis’ hand on his arm again. “Please, Harry, at least let me call you an Uber or something.” Harry was enough of a mess that he was tempted to take him up on the offer, but found he couldn’t really stomach the idea of standing there awkwardly waiting for however long it would take for the car to get there, or abruptly cutting off the middle of a discussion when it did arrive.

“No, it’s alright, I think I’m going to walk up Mass Ave a bit, clear my head.” Louis’ brow furrowed and he clearly was not done worrying about how Harry was getting home. All Harry wanted to do was step into his arms and rub his thumb over the spot to soften the lines and put a smile back on his face, but he knew as soon as he did that he would cave and wait for the nice warm back seat of the Uber, cuddled up with Louis. His pride wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

The walk home was a bit of a haze, and as he finally rounded the corner near his apartment, he remembered the text he had sent to Niall and Perrie. Before he went inside he pulled his phone out to give them the all clear.

_Never mind. Change of plans. Home alone._

They were working and he didn’t expect responses back right away, so he hastily unlocked the door to the street and climbed the stairs up to the apartment. When he finally unlocked their door Mia was there waiting, meowing at him to make sure he was fully aware of just how long he had left her alone.

He leaned down to pet her, check her water bowl, and finally toe his boots off. He had specifically chosen the ones that had zippers on the inside ankles because they were much easier to take off, and reduced the likelihood that he would fall over while removing them. He hadn’t wanted to worry about that when he had Louis back here.

He spared another glance around his room at the new candles he had brought out from his stash to replace his almost completely melted down every day ones, sighed, and decided he would deal with them in the morning.

The weight of the conversation he and Louis had finally washed over him, and it felt like too much to bear. He crawled up his bed on top of the duvet, and collapsed, fully dressed, limbs flailing.

A few hours later, he felt someone nudge his shoulder, and when he finally pried his eyes open he could just make out the shapes of Perrie and Niall in the moonlit room.

“C’mon, Haz. Jeans off, under the covers we go,” Niall said, trying to lift Harry’s legs up away from the bed.

“No,” Harry grumbled, attempting to turn over towards the wall.

“Yes, babes. You’ll be much more comfortable,” Perrie attempted this time. Harry agreed, but couldn’t muster the energy, so he flipped over on to his back.

Perrie, being the friend she was, managed to get the button undone, and the zip halfway down before she stopped, “You are wearing underwear, right?”

“Yes,” Harry sighed. With that she continued to struggle getting the skin tight material over his hips and down his legs.

She crowed triumphantly when she finally succeeded while Niall pulled the duvet back, and they got under the covers, one on either side of him. A best friend sandwich. It was a tight squeeze, even in his queen sized bed, but worth it, he thought as he drifted back off to sleep. Perrie’s light, spicy perfume flooded his nostrils, and he knew he would be okay.

 

Niall was the first to wake up the first morning, violently prodding Harry in the ribs to wake him up. The movement caused Perrie to wake up as well, and once they were all back to some level of consciousness, Perrie drew the blankets tighter around them, and looked at Harry expectantly.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry sighed as he buried himself farther under the duvet.

“Don’t be silly, Harry. Start from the beginning. You thought Louis was going to finally spend the night, everything was going great, what happened?” She finished her question gently, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to get out of an explanation.

Harry briefly popped his head out from his cocoon, “Well it turns out even though his last name is different, he’s a Deakin.”

“As in The Deakin Family Foundation? Where you guys got that grant?” Perrie asked, confused. Harry nodded.

Niall had been silent, listening, but now he chimed in from Harry’s other side, “Didn’t you meet him at the Deakin Foundation party?” Harry nodded again, while his friends settled into a contemplative silence.

Perrie was the one to finally breach it, “Harry, honey, I’m not quite understanding the problem here. What happened last night?”

Harry sighed again, “We ran into his mother last night, who I know from the grant and the fact that I work at the Symphony, and that was how I found out. He’s been lying to me this whole time. He’s been slumming it with me, out of pity,” he ended on a groan as he propelled his head back into the safety of his blankets, where the outside world didn’t have to exist, and he remained single forever. Just him and Mia, for life.

As if she had been summoned by the pure power of his thoughts, Harry could feel the sudden weight of Mia hopping up on the end of the bed. They were all in this room, so she wanted to make sure they were aware that she was ignoring them.

“Woah, woah, woah. Did he SAY that to you? That jackass!” Niall exclaimed, incensed on Harry’s behalf.

“I mean, no. He didn’t say that. He just said some really patronizing stuff about me being excited about my staff tickets, which is why he didn’t offer his, and paying for everything because he wanted to be gentlemanly.”

Niall’s anger seemed to be cut off at the knees at that, “Oh. Huh.”

Perrie was staring at Harry intently, and hadn’t said much. She kept opening her mouth to say something, then shutting it again as though she couldn’t quite decide how to start.

“You know, Harry my love, I’m still not really seeing the problem here. Louis is handsome?”

“God, yes. He’s beautiful.” Harry had to squeeze his eyes shut at that. What he could have had.

“He’s cultured?”

“Yeah, we really enjoyed the concert.”

“He’s got a steady nine to five job?”

“Well, sure, but-”

“Even though he’s filthy rich?”

“Yeah, I mean-”

“And he wants you.”

“That one wasn’t a question.” Harry said, dejectedly. He really didn’t need her to list all the reasons Louis was so amazing. He knew all these things, that’s what made stomaching the fact that Louis had lied to him so difficult.

Perrie leveled him with an unimpressed look.

“Yeah, but Perrie, he lied to me!” he answered, desperate to make her understand.

“Okay, look,” Niall began, his tone placating, “I understand everything Perrie is saying, and I understand you’re upset about not knowing, but Harry, think about him in all of this. He’s probably been burned in the past. I can kind of understand wanting to wait to tell you to see if it was really going somewhere. And it doesn’t sound like he outright lied.”

When Harry didn’t immediately acquiesce, he could feel his two best friends sharing a look across his body.

Perrie, again, was the one to break the lull in conversation, “Alright, babes, I’ll get breakfast started. Pancakes?” Harry nodded and ducked back under the covers until they were ready.

 

Over the next week, Harry vacillated between being angry, sad, and wanting to throw himself at Louis. He eventually calmed down and thought through the points that Niall and Perrie made that morning. They were right, Louis was absolutely everything Harry could imagine in a partner, and they had only been dating for a few months. Louis probably should have been more forthcoming and not dodged questions about why he was traveling for work, but Harry also had to acknowledge that it must be difficult to have a name so synonymous with money and power around the city.

Harry hadn’t explicitly said that he didn’t want to talk to him, but Louis had given him the space anyway. Before, even when Louis was traveling, he always made sure to text and check in or answer Harry’s random texts throughout the day when he got a chance. Now there was radio silence. The bottom line was, Harry missed him.

At his best, he thought the silence from Louis surely meant that he cared about Harry and was respecting his wishes by giving him space. At his worst, he thought it meant that Louis had officially washed his hands of Harry and wanted nothing to do with him or his dramatic temper tantrum at the Symphony. He couldn’t believe he had done that, and couldn’t understand why he had such a strong reaction.

Harry had marked the days Louis was both going to and returning from Chicago. Because his flight got in before dinner, but after Harry would be off from work, Harry was originally supposed to meet him at the airport before they went out for dinner.

Finally, on the day Louis got back from Chicago, Harry decided he couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to talk to Louis. Before he could second guess his decision, he hopped on the subway and took off for the airport.

In his excitement, he arrived at baggage claim way too early and spent thirty minutes pacing back and forth in front of the terminal exit where all the passengers would come out. Because he was in one of the biggest terminals, and Boston was a hub city, there was a constant flow of travelers and Harry remained on edge, not know who could possibly be coming from Louis’ flight.

He turned around to double check the arrivals board. They had definitely landed, but at an airport like Logan that could mean they were sitting on the tarmac and it would still be another twenty minutes before he got there.

“Harry?” Or not. Harry turned slowly, the anticipation and excitement of seeing Louis again just barely outweighing his desire to prolong the time before an inevitable rejection. He closed his eyes and sent up a silent sympathetic prayer for Schrödinger.

When he opened his eyes again, Louis was standing two feet in front of him looking more beautiful than any human being had a right to look. His hair was down and soft across his forehead, framing his shining bright blue eyes. He clearly hadn’t wanted to wear his contacts on the plane, and Harry practically whimpered at the sight of him in the mythical glasses that he had only heard about, not actually seen yet.

“Lou. Hi.” He said on a squeak. He cleared his throat to try and even out his voice.

“Hi,” Louiw began cautiously, “are you here to meet me?”

Harry let out an awkward chuckle, “That was the plan, right?”

Louis nodded, “Yes, it was,” he still sounded hesitant, “but I didn’t expect you to come if you didn’t want to.” At the end of the sentence he glanced briefly down at the ground as if trying to build up the courage, before he met Harry’s gaze again.

Harry’s heart broke at this usually confident man being even the tiniest bit insecure, and clearly showing his vulnerability. Harry both hated the fact that he was the cause of it, and loved that in that moment the trust he had originally questioned was palpable.

“No, Lou, I promise. I really do want to be here. I wanted to apologize for last week. I shouldn’t have flipped out at you like that. We haven’t been dating very long, and you didn’t owe me anything, I guess I was just projecting,” he finished on a shrug.

“Harry,” Louis dropped his shoulder bag on the ground next to him and wrapped Harry up in his arms, “you don’t have to apologize for that. Never. I should have told you, I shouldn’t have been a coward about it. I’m sorry too.”

Harry tucked his face into Louis’ neck, brought his arms up to complete the hug, and exhaled all of the tension he had been holding on to for the past week.

Louis must have been able to physically feel his relief, because he began to pepper kisses along Harry’s jaw, “That’s it baby, let it out,” he murmured.

Harry was not sure how long they stayed standing there wrapped up in each other, but he never wanted to leave. Eventually, though, real life intruded, and they had to grab Louis’ bag from the carousel. Louis made sure to keep his hand firmly in Harry’s as he bent to retrieve it and lead Harry outside to where a town car was waiting.

Once he was sure Harry was settled in the plush leather of the back seat, and the driver had put his bag in the back, Louis climbed in the other side. He pulled Harry immediately in to his side as the driver pulled out of the arrivals roundabout.

Louis placed a kiss on the crown of Harry’s head, “Harry, I wasn’t sure if you were going to meet me, so I didn’t make a reservation. I can have the driver drop you off at your apartment,” Harry’s heart began to sink at the idea of letting go of Louis, “or, I was thinking, maybe you could come over to my condo? We could get burgers, and maybe talk a little?”

Harry nodded from his nook under Louis’ arm, “That sounds nice.”

There was a fair amount of traffic because it was rush hour, but the rest of the drive passed in companionable silence save for a few blips from the front seat where the driver had the radio playing softly. The stop and go traffic and warm comfort of Louis’ arms had Harry drifting off, and in what felt like no time at all Louis was nudging him awake to get his Shake Shack order. Louis asked the driver to go in and get their food as they stayed in the car.

Armed with a sack of greasy food, Louis untangled them from the back seat, got his bag, and made his way towards the entrance of the building. Harry had never even seen the outside of his condo because Louis always insisted on walking him home or dropping him off whenever they were together. Nerves began to tangle in his stomach as Louis unlocked the door and led him upstairs.

Louis’ condo was a nice mix of classic architecture with modern finishings. The walls were a soft dove gray, and the trim was white with white upper cabinets, and the kitchen had a dark wood island with a white marble top. It could have been cold and sterile, but instead there were enough details like family portraits and art hanging around that it felt cozy and lived-in.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Louis said with a cheeky grin as he used the hand with the food in it to gesture towards the open plan living room and kitchen. He then held the food out for Harry to take, “I’m going to put my bag down, but feel free to make yourself at home. We can eat at the dining table, or the island, whatever you would like.”

Harry took another look around and decided the island would probably make their serious conversation a little less intimidating. Maybe not, but it was worth a shot.

When Louis came back in, they tucked into their burgers and fries making small talk about their weeks, carefully dancing around the fact that they hadn’t spoken at all in that time.

Louis began to fidget and become restless, and Harry could tell he desperately wanted to talk about their argument. Could he really call it an argument? He continued to munch on his fries while he waited for Louis to crack.

“Harry, I’d really like to start over.” That wasn’t what Harry had been expecting.

“What do you mean, Lou?” Louis quickly packed up their trash, wiped the grease off his hands, and held one out to Harry. Harry took it and began to shake it up and down.

“Hi, my name is Louis Tomlinson, I’m an accountant at the Deakin Family Foundation, which is run by my mother and step-dad. I have a fairly big bank account that mostly goes untouched in the bank until I find ways to give it away because it’s pretty stupidly excessive. I think you’re absolutely lovely and gorgeous, and I really admire how passionate you are about your job and the work that you do. Especially when you’re given staff discounted tickets, and treat me to a really amazing evening to get me to put out.”

Harry couldn’t help it as he gradually cracked a smile during Louis’ speech, and eventually began to giggle, cheeks heating up, when he remembered what he had said that night.

“Looou,” he groaned and tried to pull his hand away to cover his cheeks, but Louis held fast.

“Nope. Your turn, stranger that is in my house.” Harry giggled again as Louis tried to school his face into a stern glare, as if Harry really was a stranger holding his hand and sitting at his kitchen island.

“Hiiii, my name is Harry Styles, and I work in development at the Boston Symphony Orchestra,”

“Oooh fancy,” Louis interrupted.

“Hush, it’s my turn to talk,” Louis nodded as if thoroughly apologetic for his outburst. Harry didn’t buy it, “I spent three years waiting tables before I got a job in my field, and I love it. And I also really admire that you give away the money in your stupid excessive bank account so that it’s actually useful.” Louis had given up trying to pretend to be stern, and his expression had softened into something much closer to fond as he looked at Harry, hands still clasped between them.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Harry.”

Harry smiled back at him for a moment, then abruptly used his grip on Louis’ hand to pull him up out of his barstool. He used the momentum to propel Louis backwards onto what looked like a very large, comfortable sectional.

“Now, what was this you said about putting out?” Harry questioned cheekily as he straddled Louis’ lap.

“I am lady, Styles, I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about,” the prim and proper effect of his words was ruined as he lifted his hands up to bring Harry’s mouth closer to his. The kiss started out tentative, as if Louis was still trying to make sure it was okay, that they were okay. Harry had enough doubting and ran his tongue along the seam of Louis’ mouth to try and get him to deepen the kiss.

 

Much, much later that evening Louis’ fingers danced along Harry’s spine where the skin of his back met the crisp white sheet that rode low on his waist.

Something had been bothering Harry ever since he had figured out Louis’ family situation, and he needed to get it off his chest. “These things don’t just happen, you know?” he mumbled into the pillow.

Louis brought his attention back up to Harry’s face, “What things? What do you mean?”

“This. All of this. Random beautiful men who are perfect and wonderful don’t usually just drop out of the sky and have all the money in the world. I had kind of prepared myself for the life of a starving artist,” he had meant it as a joke, but as soon as the words had tumbled out of his mouth, he realized it sounded like he meant to spend his whole life with Louis. Which, he did, he couldn’t imagine anyone could ever measure up to him, but he didn’t exactly need Louis to know that, yet.

“I mean, you could always starve if you want to? I’ll support you, babe, in whatever you want to do,” Louis said nobly. Harry huffed out a laugh and swatted at him, which quickly led to a tickling match, which then led to round two, or was it three?

They hadn’t solved everything, they still had a few details to iron out, but for now, all Harry could do was bask in the fact that they had a much more solid foundation of trust and respect than any of his past relationships. This felt different. Special.

He buried his face in the crook of Louis neck, breathed him in, and smiled to himself. He felt settled for the first time in awhile, if ever, and it felt magical.

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit me on tumblr [@becomeawendybird](http://becomeawendybird.tumblr.com)
> 
> And if you liked it you can reblog the fic post [here](http://becomeawendybird.tumblr.com/post/155809658051/becomeawendybird-chapters-11-fandom-one)


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